Conversation Profound

G.”Good morning; sleep well”? H.”Yes, you”? G.”Yes, like an angel, but I lost my sock.” H.”Angels don’t lose socks.” G.”I forgot to take them off and fell asleep and during the night one of my toes cramped. I took the sock off my cramped foot and put it on my hand so I would not forget and lose it in the morning and yet, now it is gone.”

H. You are always turning the bed in chaotic bundle with your restless roaming around between the blankets, I am not going to strip the bed completely to find your bloody sock. I am sure it will turn up. Why do you go to sleep with socks on? G. Ok, I’ll just walk around all day wearing one sock. H. (exasperated) Jeez, get another pair from your drawer, surely you have more than one pair? G. Yes, but I already lost a pair of my best pyjamas, I don’t want to lose anything more at this stage of my life. H. You are mad, make coffee. G. Ok dear, pronto. Please, find my sock. H. Don’t worry, why concentrate on what’s not here at the moment; be positive!
G. You know me well enough, I am not going to be positive till my sock turns up. H. ( laughing) You are mad.

My coffee making is two heaped table spoonful’s of Arabia coffee into a stainless steel plunger type device. After pouring boiling water into it, I let it stand while I open the blinds to the outside world from our lounge/dining/kitchen room. Milo is outside looking in. There has been a bit of drizzle and still he slept on his cushion instead of his the luxe dog house with sheep wool underlay and alpaca fleeced cushions. Milo is a bit wet.

I let him in and he sniffs the coffee with his nose pointing upwards at exactly the spot on the kitchen bench were the coffee is still settling in its hot liquid environs.

After a few minutes of reflecting pensively on what could have happened to my sock I pour the coffee into the two white tapered mugs. Next some milk. I put in 2 sugars for me and just one for H. I then stir the lot. I take one mug to H. who sometimes prefers to read in a bit. If she gets to a page she thinks I might find interesting, she will read it out to me. I think that is such a lovely thing to do. I mean being read out to.

This morning, when I entered she triumphantly waved a sock around. H. Here is your ‘stolen sock’. It was under your crumped up pillow. Why do you have such unsavoury nocturnal habits? First sleeping with socks in the middle of summer. Then you put one on your hands. On top of that you put it from hand to under your pillow. What’s wrong with you? Did you do that at home too? Did your mother not ever tell you to take socks off? .

G. I don’t know dear. But she did warn us to sleep with hands above the blankets. How is the coffee? Is it strong enough? Can you taste that I let it brew extra long this morning? I put just a bit of sugar in it and stirred it well. Let me know if you would like a second one. If you do I’ll put the kettle on again. H. Lovely coffee, thanks. Don’t sleep with socks on. G. No I won’t. G. takes the missing sock and turns optimistic.

Of course, only sensible people wear socks to bed. I remember, during the war and even after, my mum putting hot water in those stone Dutch gin bottles and wrapping it up in a towel for her son’s feet to get warm.
A good mum!

I am sure you had a great day after this lovely conversation with H.
And the sock having been found in due time. How wonderful for you!

We keep finding all sorts of things under the sheets when we make the bed. (We usually attempt to make it together!)

Often not only one but two socks have been found under the sheets! On occasions even my partials! My partials which I must have been holding in my hand before going to sleep, feeling too tired to put them away properly! LOL! 🙂

What are partials? I could look it up but have some fun just guessing. Could they be white and made of porcelain? We found a mobile phone once in our bed. It belonged to a grandson who could receive calls but not make any. All of a sudden his mum phoned him and the ringing came in all muffled.

You might have picked La Boheme…. My Tiny Foot is Frozen. Never wear socks to bed. Far too risky. Supposing I lost one? It sounds to me as if you are the perfect couple, Gerard. If all you worry about is a missing sock then its definitely a good day ahead.

I love the parallels in our lives all these thousands of miles apart. My husband is slightly baffled that I sleep with bed socks much of the year. If I get too hot I shuffle them off and have to find them in the morning. We have two cups of tea to read with in bed in the morning and by some unwritten marital arrangement one of us gets up to make the tea and it always right. It should really be me as for all those years of crack-of-dawn commuting, he brought me a cup of tea in bed as he left…

This morning it was H who put on the kettle. I slept in. No socks last night even though heater has been on. Amazing. Never before heating in the middle of summer! Yet, last week 40c. Something is crook in the world.
Holland had its warmest winter day of 14c.
The sock wearers around the world must be in utter disarray.
Glad to hear some husbands are united with taking beverages to their wives. Soon the crocuses will rear their heads, or is that still too early?

I don’t need socks. I just wait till J is asleep and sneak my feet between his calves. Occasionally I get a squeak if I’ve misjudged his snoring. Usually my timing is down pat. True love? According to J we were just in the right place at the right time although I suspect that is just his Dutch sensibilities. Love A.

Hi Angela. Nice to hear from you. Our nocturnal habits can be baffling, from wearing socks to hats. I remember seeing a comedy movie about wine and love, when the man was going ‘hell for leather’ after someone who had taken a wallet, he was starkers except for wearing a beanie.

Irish bought in my coffee this morning – normally tea is my first drink of the day but alas, I’m on some ridiculous cavewoman diet where milk is forbidden. As I don’t like tea without milk, I’m now having black coffee instead. It’s wonderful having a spouse that’s so thoughtful, these few years of training have proved that you can teach an old dog new tricks! At the point when the tea/coffee appears, that heralds the moment when Colin Snout is allowed up onto the bed for a morning cuddle. Our dog is so indulged, he sleeps in a basket in our room (in the early days of his life here with us, he slept in our bed)
Never really been a sock in bed wearer but, I do sometimes wear a hat in bed – very fetching 😀

Milo sleeps outside all night watching possums. I sometimes get up at 2 or 3pm and there he is, his face pointing upwards towards the trees and the possums. No, never wore a hat to bed yet but I can give it a go.
Is Colin Snout Spanish or from England? Just curious. Your hacienda looks fantastic.

Gerard, i’ve been trying all day to leave a comment on your rhubarb post – for some reason WP is not allowing me to. I’ll keep trying! I wanted to share a link with you that I thought you’d enjoy!
Colin Snout is 100% Spanish. In fact he is so Spanish that he does not understand a word of our English so trying to get him to do anything is almost impossible – our neighbour speaks to him in Spanish and he does everything she asks like ‘sit’ ‘come here’ etc etc another very good reason that i need to get cracking with my spanish language!